Strange Encounters of the Annoying Kind
by Industrial Lace and Magic
Summary: Kind of a spoof of a Sweeney/OC. Christmas present for Ravencaller. Not sure on what to rate it, so be cautious.


_This was a Christmas present for my best friend who you all know as Ravencaller. We were over her house working on How Do I Save You when we got into a discussion about our music class, and how our teacher told us about people in the 21__st__ century having a higher tolerance to discordant sounds. We then started to wonder what would happen if Sweeney Todd were to accidentally pick up my iPod and listen to it._

_We then started a conversation about how much she hates OC fan fiction when they go back in time and fall madly in love with each other. Both of these conversations together created a brilliant plot idea, so I promised to write her an oneshot for Christmas – since she was making me this awesome montage for one of my original pieces. She has also made me a banner for this story, which I will post a link to somewhere. _

_Anyway, enjoy everyone, read review. Hope you all like it, _

_Industri _

* * *

_Sweeney_

I looked down the chute as the man fell, still gargling as the air escaped through his open windpipe. Smiling in satisfaction, I took my foot off of the pedal and my chair righted itself again and the trapdoor closed.

I turned towards the broken mirror on my wall and started cleaning my face of the stray drops of blood that had hit me. Mrs Lovett was always trying to get me to buy a new mirror, saying it didn't look good for business if I didn't have a well presented shop. She could talk; when I'd arrived, every surface of hers was caked with about two inches of dust and I was one mouthful away from eating a cockroach.

As I was pulling off my shirt ready for Mrs Lovett to wash I heard a thump behind me. I turned around, using my shirt to shield my chest and stomach from view, scared it was Mrs Lovett trying to sneak a peek.

Instead, I found a young girl lying on the floor next to my chair wearing the strangest clothes. It was a pair of bloomers, cut off at about mid thigh and she was wearing a vest on top which only just fell short of her hips, exposing her lower abdomen. On top, she was wearing a thin woollen overcoat. Overall, it was the weirdest clothing I'd seen in my life, and I'd looked in Mrs Lovett's wardrobe.

I walked over to her and gave her a little poke with my shoe. She only stirred and turned over. My hand inched towards the razor in my little holster. There really was only one solution of what to do. It was obvious the girl was insane, why else would she be dressed like that? There was no way she was right in the head. I would simply be putting her out of her misery.

I pulled out my friend and flicked him open, crouching down on the floor next to her. When the blade was just a half an inch from her neck, I froze. My curiosity had peaked with this girl and I wanted to know where she'd come from, how she'd arrived here. I could probably put off killing her for now until I heard her story.

I sighed defeatedly, stood and went over to my wardrobe so I could get a clean shirt. I was going to have to get Mrs Lovett to hurry with my washing; I was running a little low on fresh shirts. Once I was properly dressed again, I went back over to the girl and prodded her with my foot again, harder than before.

She instantly woke, sat upright and screamed. I screamed back, which only served to scare her more. Eventually, I got bored and stopped her by clamping my hand over her mouth.

She looked a little dazed for a bit before seemingly coming to her senses and looking straight at me.

"I will take my hand off, but you will only speak to answer my questions," I told her. She rolled her eyes and but nodded regardless and I removed my hand. "What is your name?" I asked.

"I'm called Aimee," she said in a sickeningly sweet high-pitched voice. I could already tell this girl was a migraine waiting to happen. "What's yours?" she asked me.

"The name's Todd… Sweeney Todd," I told her, then added quietly, "And he will have his revenge."

"Revenge for what?" the girl – Aimee – asked. I jumped; I'd forgotten she was there.

"I'm asking the questions," I said. "Where did you come from? And what are you wearing?"

"I'm from Devon and I was walking home from my friends before I ended up here. Where is here anyway? I feel like I've entered some sort of 1800s drama." All of this was said in one breath. What was wrong with this girl? She was so odd… and annoying.

Deciding to get rid of her, I called down to Mrs Lovett to take her away from me and get her into something more proper. I would not have her scaring away my customers in that ridiculous attire. Really, it was almost vulgar.

I looked over the room, deciding it was best to clean up a little before my next customer arrived; then again, it was almost closing time, so I guessed I was unlikely to have anymore.

I sat back down in my chair, careful not to knock the pedal, and looked at the floor. Right in the middle was a little black rectangular thing. Curious, I went over and picked it up. Attached to it was two pieces of string, each had little buds attached to the end. The perfect size to put in my…

I placed the bud in my ears and shook the object. Instantly, I was deafened by an odd noise. Where was it coming from? I ran over to the window. The streets were almost empty outside. I knew it wasn't Mrs Lovett; she only played the piano, albeit badly, but nothing like this.

It was like someone was using a hammer to smash open my head. This was not music; it was a horrible crashing noise, being repeated over and over. Eventually, my heartbeat pulsed in my head with each loud crash. How was I to end this torture?

"Oh my God, my ears are bleeding," I yelled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs Lovett come into the room, followed by that girl. She ran over to me and started speaking, but over the noise I couldn't hear her voice. It was odd that she couldn't seem to hear the noise as well.

When I didn't respond to her words, she looked slightly put out, but made a sweeping glance of me, then yanked the wires out of my ears. I barely held back a sigh of relief as the noise finally ended.

Mrs Lovett smiled and stepped back. I dropped the rectangular thing onto the ground and stood, going over to my chair and sat back down. Aimee looked at the thing for a bit, before smiling and prancing over to it.

"My iPod," she said. "I've been looking for this." She picked it up and put one of the wires into her left ear and pressed the button. I was half expecting the torture device to deafen her, but she only smiled and left the room. What?

Deciding I wanted to be alone, I glared at Mrs Lovett who took the hint and ran away. Once all was silent again, I went over to my window and looked out over Fleet Street, willing my newly acquired headache to disappear.

* * *

I managed to keep the headache away until the next morning when she came into my shop – without knocking and chatting loudly – holding a tray with whatever meal Mrs Lovett had created to 'get a bit of meat on me'.

She put a plate of what could only be described as mush on the table next to me and slumped down in my chair – _still_ talking loudly about whatever it was she was on about. I felt a dull ache start to grow at the back of my head.

I took a spoonful of mush – curious as to what it was – but instantly spat it back out. It was terrible, even by Mrs Lovett's standards.

"What is this?" I rasped, grimacing at the lingering taste.

"I don't know, I just grabbed loads of stuff and mixed it together," Aimee told me.

I picked up the plate and opened my window, scraping the contents out onto the street below. A stray cat walked over to it, tasted it, hissed and ran away.

I went back to staring out the window, fighting to block out the voice of the devil herself.

* * *

Throughout the day, I found myself being constantly bothered by the girl. Just to top it off, I couldn't kill anyone. She didn't leave at all.

Eventually, I got fed up. I grabbed my coat off the hook and a wad of cash from my last victim raid – he'd been a rich bastard. A politician, I think. Then I headed out to the nearest public house.

On my journey home, in the process of pushing away that beggar lady, I heard someone calling my name behind me. I turned around to see the young sailor lad, but had to think hard to remember his name…Anthony, yes, Anthony.

"Mr Todd, how are you?" he asked as I stumbled over to him. Ah, how lovely it was to be young and innocent. Suddenly, an idea hit me.

"Anthony, you're young and foolish, could you help me?" I asked. He looked confused for a second, before eagerly jumping at the chance to help me. I explained my whole situation to him, and by the end of it, he looked like he was trying to ward off a headache by thinking too hard.

"I really don't know what to say Mr Todd. I'm sorry, but now I have to go, my love awaits." And with those words, he ran off. I was left standing in the street, dreading going back to my shop in fear of seeing _her._

When I returned, I was ready to relax in my shop, remembering my past and my sweet, sweet Lucy. Instead, I found _her_ staring out my window, seemingly giggling at nothing. A bottle of gin – _my_ good gin – was clutched in her hand.

"What are you doing?" I growled.

"I'm being you," she giggled, making an intense face and looking back out the window.

I picked my razor out of its holster and held it up to light, trying to return to my previous state of calm.

"Oooh, what's that?" Aimee asked. Something akin to happiness rushed through me.

"Come here, sit. I'll show you," I said sweetly.

She stumbled over and fell into my chair – _still _giggling. With one sweep, she was gone.

Mrs Lovett must have heard the scream, because she came running into the shop, looking sadly at the scene in front of her.

"Oh, Mr T, my best dress."


End file.
